Heal The Pain
by DSV4600
Summary: Joxer's continual search for Xena and Gabrielle worries his friends. Set after "Looking Death in the Eye" and prior to "Livia"


PERFORMING BARDS … ****

HEAL THE PAIN

He stumbled and fell, making only a token effort to save himself before he hit the dusty ground with a thud. He lay there for a few moments, breathing heavily, unable to summon the energy to stand up. Eventually, he compromised, slowly managing to struggle into a sitting position. No wonder I fell over, he thought wryly, glancing down at his boots. They were battered, worn and split, his sock-covered toes poking through almost sheepishly. How long have I been walking, he wondered, how long ago did Argo die? Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered waking up on that fateful morning, knowing instantly that something was wrong. Argo's breathing was ragged, her whole body twitching and shaking. He'd cradled her head in his arms, stroking her gently and whispering softly to her. He would never forget the look in her eyes as she died; beneath the pain she was pleading with him not to give up, to keep searching. When Argo died in his arms it was as though his last link to his two friends had gone. He remembered shouting and screaming at the Gods, roundly cursing each and every one of them for hours but reserving most of his anger and venom for Ares, who had smirked when Joxer had confronted him in one of his Temples.

"Give it up, maggot, they're dead."

The words had echoed through Joxer's mind and he resumed his verbal assault upon Ares with a vehemence that would have surprised those who knew him. His usually cheerful, smiling face was twisted with anger and fury as he had insulted and taunted the God of War. He had expected one of the Gods to appear: Aphrodite, to try and calm him down or maybe even Ares himself, who would have delighted in making Joxer suffer for his earlier taunts and insults. Nothing had happened however and Joxer sank to his knees in despair. I'm not even worth a small curse, he thought, I'm not worth bothering about at all. The grief and despair threatened to overwhelm him and he had buried Argo whilst tears streamed down his face. After that, he had simply started walking, concentrating his mind upon putting one foot in front of the other, unaware of any particular direction, his only aim being to look for his friends, to keep searching no matter what.

The irritated-sounding voice inside his head suddenly jerked him from his reverie. What good are you doing sat on the ground? What would Gabrielle think if she could see you now? She'd understand, he thought quietly, trying to silence the inner voice. The voice always berated him if he thought about stopping for a while, if he faltered in any way. It even sounds like Gabrielle, thought Joxer, it's the same voice she used whenever I did something wrong or stupid. Which was pretty much all the time, countered the voice, sounding more exasperated. Now, come on, get up. With an effort, Joxer struggled to his feet, haphazardly brushing himself off. Taking a deep breath, he glanced around, picked a direction, seemingly at random and then staggered along the dusty track, gradually coming within sight of a small town. 

The tall, well-dressed man whistled cheerfully as he strode confidently along the track. I am just TOO good, he thought as he patted the jewel that currently rested in one of his many pockets. It will be days before they even realise it's missing, he chuckled to himself. Autolycus tensed slightly as he spotted someone walking towards him, relaxing as he took in the dishevelled appearance. Just a beggar, he thought, before stopping suddenly, a look of shocked surprise on his face.

"Joxer?" He asked tentatively, recoiling slightly as Joxer lifted his head and stared at him expressionlessly. Autolycus couldn't believe how much Joxer had changed. He'd always been skinny but now his clothes hung from his frame and his face was gaunt and almost skeletal. It was Joxer's eyes that affected Autolycus the most; there was a dark, haunted look in them that was totally at odds with the twinkling, mischievous eyes that Autolycus remembered.

"Joxer, what's…" He broke off as a suspicion formed in his mind. "You're not still searching for Xena and Gabrielle, are you?"

"I have to," he whispered, turning and walking towards the town. Autolycus watched him thoughtfully for a few seconds before quickly catching up with him, grabbing Joxer's arm.

"Look," he said quietly, gazing intently at him, "you're far too exhausted to keep going."

Joxer shook his head. "I can't stop."

"The state you're in you could easily miss something." Autolycus struggled to keep his voice low, resisting the urge to shout. "All I'm saying is that you should rest for a while, regain your strength. When was the last time you had a proper rest?"

Joxer's face creased as he struggled to remember. "I don't know … I stayed with Meg whilst Argo gave birth." Joxer smiled slightly. "Meg's looking after the foal."

"But you can't remember how long ago, can you?" Autolycus kept probing. "What will you achieve if you're not in a fit state to help Xena and Gabrielle when you find them?"

There was a brief pause as Joxer considered Autolycus' words and then, to the thief's immense relief, Joxer nodded in agreement.

"All right," he said softly, "but only for a couple of days."

"Whatever," smiled Autolycus. "I'll take you to Meg. It isn't far."

Meg sighed and straightened up, wincing as a sudden stab of pain raced along her spine. Hands on hips, she cast a critical eye around the kitchen, inspecting every surface, each pot and pan, before nodding slightly. Well, at least something's going right today, she thought, I've finally managed to clean the kitchen. Meg groaned aloud as she bent to retrieve the cleaning bucket. Why did I ever decide to turn this place into an Inn, she thought, its twice as much work for less than half the money. 

"I wanted some respect," she whispered softly, carefully making her way across the kitchen. 

"Meg!" There was a distinct note of urgency in the faintly recognisable masculine voice. Meg sighed and put down the bucket.

"We're closed," she muttered irritably as she walked into the bar area. She glared at the two men standing by the door, her face softening as she recognised Autolycus.

"Well, if it isn't Mr Stinky," she remarked, frowning at the other man who looked as though it was only the firm hold Autolycus had on him that was keeping him upright. At that moment, he raised his head and a sudden gasp of astonishment escaped Meg's lips.

"Joxer!" She cried, running quickly to his side, her arm snaking around his back, adding her support. "How many times have I told you…" She broke off as his eyes glazed over and he started to pitch forward. Autolycus tensed, keeping a firm hold, preventing Joxer from falling to the floor.

"How did he get in this state?" Meg threw an accusing glance at Autolycus.

"Well, don't look at me…" he began but Meg waved aside his objections.

"Never mind that. Help me get him upstairs."

He floated in nothing, a grey nothingness that enclosed and enveloped him. It washed over him, seeping into his pores and relaxing his body before touching and soothing his mind. His worries and cares dissipated, there was nothing here to concern him, he felt safe and warm. There was silence all around but it was light and free, not the heavy, oppressive quiet that he was used to. He tensed as he thought he felt hands touching him, but it was gone in an instant and he relaxed, feeling himself cocooned in warmth once more. For the first time in months, he felt at peace. I want to stay here, he thought, where it's safe. Nothing can hurt me here.

Meg glanced briefly across the room at the old woman who was stirring some herbs in a mug of boiling water.

"Well?" She asked, her eyes returning to Joxer who was tucked up in the bed. She smiled slightly, reaching out to push a stray lock of hair away from his face.

"He'll be alright," said the woman softly. "He just needs plenty of sleep … and lots of food. Give him this when he wakes."

"What is it?"

"Just a tonic," she replied. "Well, you know where I am if you need me."

"Thanks." Meg glanced up, unwilling to move her gaze from Joxer for even the briefest moment. The old woman shrugged and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Meg pulled up a chair and sat watching Joxer, frowning heavily.

"Oh, Joxer," she sighed, "whatever were you thinking of? When will you finally accept that they're gone and there's nothing you can do about it?"

"I don't know whether he ever will." Autolycus's softly spoken words caused Meg to visibly jump. "I'm sorry," continued Autolycus, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't hear you come in," Meg replied, a touch of irritation in her voice.

"Force of habit," shrugged Autolycus, turning his attention back to Joxer. "You know, I wish that if anything were to happen to me, I would have a friend like Joxer."

Meg stood and turned to Autolycus, the look of anger on her face causing him to take an involuntary step backwards.

"They didn't deserve him," she snarled, struggling to keep her voice low. "They didn't deserve his loyalty, his trust or his friendship."

"Come on, Meg," said Autolycus, reaching out a hand towards her. Meg angrily slapped it away.

"I saw the way they treated him," Meg's eyes blazed with fury. "I saw the way YOU treated him. Good old Joxer, the clumsy fool who was always good for a laugh. Joxer doesn't have feelings so how can you hurt him? It doesn't matter what you do: you can laugh at him; you can insult and abuse him; you can ignore him and you can smack him around. It doesn't matter because he'll always be there, won't he? Never complaining, putting up with everything you can throw at him and do you know why?" Meg didn't wait for Autolycus to answer. "Because he was happy to be with his 'friends'. He thought the world of Xena and Gabrielle and they treated him like dirt."

"Meg, that's unfair."

"No, it's not, Autolycus. You were exactly the same as them." Meg took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Now, thank you for bringing him back but I want you to leave."

Autolycus shook his head slightly, a look of resignation on his face as he left the room as quietly as he had entered it. Meg let out a breath, sitting down once more. I shouldn't have taken it out on Autolycus, she thought, he was nowhere near as bad as Xena and Gabrielle. 

"You're too good for them," she said softly to the prone figure on the bed, sniffing as the smell of cooking assaulted her nostrils. She groaned inwardly. "I've got to go, Jox. I can't trust the girls to run the place."

She stood up, contemplating Joxer's discarded clothing for a brief moment before reaching down and picking up his sword, hat and armour. She placed them carefully on a table in the corner of the room and then picked up his clothing. This is going to be burnt, she thought, I never could stand this outfit.

There was something he was missing, something he was forgetting. It was there, at the edge of his mind, but when he reached out to it, tried to focus, it danced away, hovering tantalisingly just out of his reach. It was important, he was sure of that, but what was it? Memories were slowly returning to him, gently surfacing in his mind and he examined each one with a childlike delight and wonder. The small, blonde-haired woman seemed to be in most of them and he was aware of a confused jumble of feelings whenever he observed her. It was her, he thought suddenly, she's important somehow. This connection in his mind seemed to trigger a response and he suddenly felt himself falling. As he fell, the memories pounded his mind, faster and faster until he thought his head would explode with the pressure. I know her name, he thought suddenly, its…

"Gabrielle!" Joxer yelled as his eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed. Oh dear, I really shouldn't have done that, he thought, as the room seemed to spin around him. Breathing heavily, he lay back down, waiting for the ceiling to stop moving.

"I remember now," he muttered. "I'm at Meg's."

He felt drained and weak, his muscles protesting as he shifted in the bed. How long have I been here, he wondered, glancing up as a soft knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," he said, slightly shocked at how weak his voice sounded. The door creaked open and Meg entered the room, a large mug in her hand. She smiled at him and sat on the chair, the relief evident on her face.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up," she said lightly.

"How long have I been here?"

"A couple of days," replied Meg, holding up her hand to silence Joxer's protestations. "You need the rest, Joxer and you also need to drink this."

Meg held out the mug and Joxer eyed it suspiciously.

"What is it?" 

"Just a tonic," smiled Meg. 

Joxer sat up cautiously and then reached out, grasping the mug. The mug was about halfway to his mouth before he realised, to his horror, that he couldn't hold it. His hand started to shake with the effort but suddenly Meg's hands were there, gently taking the mug from his shaking fingers.

"What's wrong with me?" Joxer's voice was weak and frightened and Meg put down the mug, sitting forward and clasping his hand between both of hers.

"It's alright, Jox," she replied soothingly. "You've been through a lot. You need to get your strength back. That's why you're here."

Joxer didn't reply and Meg studied his face closely. His eyes were blank and unfocused, his breathing shallow.

"Joxer?" Meg was relieved when she saw a small spark of life return to his eyes. "Are you alright?"

He nodded and Meg picked up the mug, holding it to his lips until he'd drunk it all.

"Right," said Meg brightly, "I'll go and fix you some food. Stay in bed, okay?"

Joxer nodded, watching as Meg left the room. He sighed heavily and lay back, frowning as he heard a familiar voice in his head. You can't stay here long, the voice was insistent with a touch of … was that fear, thought Joxer. He frowned at the thought; but there's nothing to be afraid of here. Joxer had always regarded Meg's as a safe haven, a place he could go where he wouldn't be judged or laughed at. It was one of the few places where he could simply relax and be himself.

"I'll stay here until I feel ready to go on," he muttered. "I certainly can't go far at the moment."

Another two days passed before Joxer felt ready to get out of bed. Meg had narrowed her eyes and started to protest but, seeing the determined look in his eyes, she shrugged and set about preparing him a hot bath. Joxer relaxed completely, enjoying the feeling of immersing himself in hot water. It felt as though the water was washing away his cares and worries as well as the dust and grime and Joxer was loath to step out and feel the burdens settling upon him once more.

"You haven't dissolved in there, have you?" Meg's voice drifted up the stairs and Joxer grinned at Meg's jaunty tone.

"I'll be down in a minute!" He yelled back, pleasantly surprised to hear that his voice was almost back to normal. Taking a deep breath, he hauled himself out of the tub, drying himself off before studying the clothes Meg had found for him. He quickly donned the black trousers, pleasantly surprised that they were loose-fitting. He'd always hated the tight trousers that Jett habitually wore. The white shirt was next, smooth and comfortable against his skin, a pleasant change from his old, rough tunic. Reaching up, he ran his hands through his wet hair, smoothing it into place as best he could. That'll do, he thought, now for some breakfast.

Meg watched with bated breath as a barefoot Joxer made his way slowly and tentatively downstairs. 

"Alright?" She asked once he'd safely reached the bottom. Joxer nodded, grinning and Meg felt her heart lurch. It had been so long since she'd seen him smile and she couldn't help grinning back at him. He had such an expressive face. She'd once teased him that his heart was connected to his face because whatever he was feeling was reflected in his eyes. His whole face lit up when he smiled and, conversely, when he was hurt or upset it was almost too painful to watch. Joxer was glancing around the room in astonishment and Meg smiled at the various expressions that crossed Joxer's face.

"It's changed quite a bit, hasn't it?" She said quietly and Joxer nodded.

"You've done it then?" He asked. "You've turned this place into a proper Tavern."

Meg took a deep breath.

"So, what do you think of it?" She asked, awaiting his reply with ill-concealed impatience.

"Looks good, Meg," he smiled. "How's business?"

Meg frowned and shrugged. "Not as good as before but we manage."

Joxer nodded, still glancing around the room and Meg felt tears spring to her eyes as she noted how relaxed and at home he looked. She walked over and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him to her and hugging him furiously.

"I've missed you," she whispered, burying her head in his shoulder. Joxer held her to him, desperately trying to ignore the voice in his head that was now yelling angrily at him. The voice grew steadily louder, pounding in his ears and filling his head with its seemingly unending fury. Joxer clung to Meg in desperation. She was his anchor in the storm that raged within him. She was sanity in an insane world. The voice was now screaming at him and suddenly Joxer couldn't withstand the onslaught any longer. He felt something snap within him and he screamed and sank to his knees, sobbing.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, holding his head.

"Joxer, what's wrong?" Meg dropped down beside him, her hands on his shoulders.

"She's inside my head!" He shouted to try and make himself heard amidst the screaming in his mind. "She keeps pushing me, taunting me. Don't you see? I've failed them … I always fail them!"

"Gabrielle," said Meg softly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Joxer, look at me."

There was no response. Joxer was sobbing and rocking back and forth. Meg put a hand beneath his chin and lifted his head to face her. Her eyes locked with his and only when Meg was sure she had his attention did she start to speak.

"You haven't failed them, Joxer. You've kept going longer than anyone else would have. The voice in your head isn't Gabrielle." Meg shook her head as Joxer started to protest. "No, it isn't her. The voice you can hear is your own. It's that part of you that refuses to let go, to admit that there's nothing else you can do. Until you can finally accept that Xena and Gabrielle are gone, that they're beyond your reach, then you'll never have any rest."

"I can't abandon them," he said softly, gazing at Meg, wide-eyed. The voice in his head had subsided to a soft whisper.

"Joxer," smiled Meg, her voice low and soft as though speaking to a frightened animal, "you haven't abandoned them. You've always been there for them. I've heard the stories, Joxer. You were the one who got the Hinds Blood Dagger for Xena, you were the one who stood up to Callisto over Argo and you were the one who managed to sneak into a Roman camp to get their bodies when they'd been crucified. Now, don't you dare tell me you've failed them."

Joxer watched Meg in astonishment and he suddenly realised that, for the first time, he was seeing her as herself. He wasn't seeing Xena's lookalike, he wasn't seeing Meg the Brothel owner, he was simply seeing Meg … His Meg. I've called her that before, he thought fondly. She's My Meg.

"Let it go, Jox," she said. "Accept that they're gone and get on with your own life. It's what they would have wanted." 

At this, Joxer's face crumpled and the tears fell again.

"I miss them," he said quietly and Meg hugged him once more.

"I know you do," she whispered, holding him as he sobbed. Joxer finally let out the grief that he'd refused to face, that he'd bottled up inside him during his despairing and fruitless search. They were gone. He could finally grieve for the two friends he'd lost. Xena … the sister he never had, whose advice and good-natured teasing he missed immensely. Gabrielle … he felt a mixture of emotions whenever he thought about her. The love was still there … or was it? Joxer frowned as he thought back, remembering all the times that Gabrielle had managed to trample over his feelings with a mere glance, how she'd never responded after his heartfelt declaration of love. She'd kept him hanging around, refusing to answer either way and managing to hurt him even more. Meg would never do that, he thought with a smile, Meg would never … hurt me. He relaxed against her, the tears subsiding as he realised that the person he held in his arms was the most important thing in his life. Losing Gabrielle was one of the most painful things I've ever experienced he thought, but if I lost Meg I would die. 

"Are we going to be alright? Joxer asked softly and Meg smiled at his quiet emphasis of the word "we".

"Yes, Jox," she grinned. "I think we're going to be just fine."


End file.
